Without Hope
by MortiferSB
Summary: 'Without hope life is meaningless. Without hope life is meaning less and less' -Anonymous


Taylor was spending more time in the basement, Danny noticed.

It had been a few weeks since Taylor had gotten out of the Psych Ward, after the incident. Danny was curious, if he had to be honest. But she needed her space, he decided, and so he ignored it, even after she requested to move their computer down.

It was only when she came home with a box full of scraps that Danny finally gave into the curiosity.

"Taylor?" He asked. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but... What's all that for?"

Taylor paused before she answered. A far cry from the girl she had been a year ago, an overexcited blabbermouth who would've given him multiple paragraphs of an answer in the time it took her current self to reply at all.

"I'm..." She took another moment to search for words. "Er... I'm trying out some robotics."

"Robotics?"

"Yeah..." Taylor continued. "Everyone needs a hobby, right?"

Danny nodded. "That's nice." He said.

At least, it was better then her sitting in her room and doing nothing. It might take her mind off of the incident.

Taylor's grip on the box slipped momentarily, and she almost dropped it.

Danny noticed that she was struggling slightly with the box. "Do you need any help with that?" He asked.

"I'll be fine." She replied, moving off to the basement.

...Robotics, huh.

Danny didn't really know much about that. He was just happy that Taylor was happy. Well, happier.

Feeling somewhat satisfied, he sat on his couch and turned on the television.

* * *

About a month had passed since Taylor had started her hobby.

In that time, Danny hadn't really had the time to talk to Taylor often. Sometimes, she'd ask for some money to buy some material, but that was about it.

She was really getting into her hobby, Danny noted. She didn't seem to like taking time away from it. She'd even started eating her meals in the basement.

It worried Danny on some level, but he didn't know how to talk to her about it. Besides, maybe she was throwing herself into this so much to avoid thinking about the incident.

Still, he was worried. It was three in the morning. Taylor wasn't in her room.

It only took a few moments to find her, though. She was in the basement, asleep on the desk she had moved down here.

Danny didn't want to wake her. It was late. Still, it was cold...

He left the basement, returning a minute later, with a blanket.

It wasn't much, but it should keep Taylor warm, at least.

Quietly, he walked up and draped the blanket over her.

He took a moment to look around, as he did so. There were scraps and parts scattered all across the floor. In the middle of the room, in front of the desk that Taylor was sleeping on, was... Something. It looked like a Mainframe Computer, kind of. Large, bulky...

Honestly, Danny didn't know what it was. Taylor probably knew what she was doing, though.

* * *

Three months since the incident. Taylor rarely left the basement anymore. Mainly for school and the collection of new materials for her...

Danny didn't really know if he could call it a hobby anymore. It was starting to become more of an obsession.

Danny attempted to talk to her, but she always seemed distracted.

The turning point came when Danny was reading through the newspaper.

He had skimmed the first few pages, detailing an incident involving Lung and the Undersiders, and most of the other stories, until he came to the advertisement section.

Somewhat down the page was a picture of a pendant. As small as the picture was, Danny could recognise it anywhere. Annette's.

Danny was angry. Annette had loved that pendant. How had someone else gotten it? He never would have sold I-

...Taylor.

She had needed money to pay for her obsession in the basement. Had she...

Danny's vision was hazed red with rage, as he stormed down to the basement.

"Taylor!" He called. She didn't answer.

Danny growled, and burst the door open.

And froze.

Taylor was slumped over her desk again. Except now. the desk was covered in blood.

Rage forgotten, Danny rushed to his daughter's side.

There was a knife in her hand, held to her throat.

She wasn't breathing.

* * *

Ten days.

Ten days since Danny had found his daughter's corpse. The house had been searched, to see if there was any hints towards what had driven Taylor to suicide, but the search had been stopped after a single day.

There were more important things, apparently, than his daughter's suicide.

Danny hadn't done much since then. Mostly just drowning his sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol.

Taylor was dead, and it was his fault.

He should've noticed. Should've been more involved in her life. If he had been closer to her, he could've stopped her...

Annette would have done a better job. If he had died instead of her, then Taylor might still be here as well.

These thoughts filled Danny's mind, as he wandered his empty house. Taylor's room was mostly untouched, as was the basement.

Danny stood at the stairs leading down in the basement, staring in.

His daughter had died in there. Had spent most of the last days of her life in there, working on that machine...

Why?

Why was it so important to her, that she had spent the last days of her life working on it?

Her notes offered no answer- They had been bloodstained, the writing unreadable. And Danny couldn't think of anything else that cou-

Wait.

Taylor's Journal. She had bought one not long ago. Maybe that could offer answers?

But where would she have left it? It hadn't been found when her room had been searched.

Of course not, she barely went into it. If anything, it'd be down here.

Danny spent some time searching the basement. The room had barely been searched- By the time her corpse had been moved out, the search had already been stopped.

The machine revealed no secrets, nor did the notes on the desk. Frustrated, Danny hit the desk, knocking off all the papers.

Then he stopped.

Atop of the desk was a small handle.

Of course. He had forgotten. The desk had a small cabinet there, meant for containing books and pens.

Quickly, Danny Hebert opened it. He was not disappointed by what he found.

The Journal.

After a pause, Danny began reading.

* * *

**_Entry 1_**

_It has been one week since the trio put me in the Locker. Mother used to keep a journal when working hard, to vent when stressed. Given what I intend to do, following her example might be wise._

_I guess I should start from the beginning._

_The three- Madison, Emma, Sophia- Have tormented me for months. I don't know why Emma went from being a friend to a bully, or why the others started, but it happened. And eventually lead to them pushing me in the Locker._

_I don't want to remember what it was like in there. All I will say is, when I came out, I kept thinking of designs._

_A few google searches gave me my answer. I had superpowers. A Tinker. Someone who can make things better then normal people. The page on the Wiki said Tinkers specialise in things._

_Given what my design is for, I think I specialise in Artificial Intelligence. Or, at least, something involving them._

_I'm going to build it. I can't handle this school drama. Having someone to talk to..._

_I should get started._

* * *

**_Entry 2_**

_Dad asked about the parts I brought in, to build this thing. I could have told him the truth, but that would mean telling him everything else. I can't do that. I don't know how'd he react. Would he get angry? Would he be understanding? I don't know. Lying is easier._

_The AI is underway. I can't really explain what I'm doing, beyond 'This thingymabob attaches to this whatsitcalled and stuff happens,' but I think it's going well. At least I don't have the Trio sabotaging it. Makes it a bit hard to vent, and makes this journal a bit useless, but may as well try._

* * *

**_Entry 3_**

_I keep forgetting to write. Keep getting distracted._

_I need more parts. Don't have enough. Used all the money I had. Borrowing off of Dad isn't a stable income. Maybe I can sell some stuff? There has to be someone who will buy the crap I have In my room. Maybe I can find some of mom's old stuff._

_I need to do this._

* * *

**_Entry_**_ 4_

_I guess it's a good thing I never bothered with the dates on this before. I don't even know what the date is today. _

_I'm done. This journal really is useless, I only ever used it three times before finishing my project. _

_Well, it might need some work... But I can't handle it. Dad's never there, I don't have anyone, the bullying is too much..._

_Please let this work. It's all I care about anymore._

_Please._

* * *

Danny stared at the pages.

There was nothing written beyond that.

Taylor...

Taylor had been bullied. By _Emma_. He hadn't noticed.

His daughter thought he was too distant.

"Taylor..." He whispered.

A surge of anger shot through him, and he lashed out, his fist hitting the machine.

He didn't notice that she needed him. Emma had bullied her. No-one else had been there for her. The machine, the AI, that she had depended on _hadn't worked_.

It was as if the entire world had decided that Taylor's life was to be suffering, and had cut it short.

There was tears rolling down his face.

A second passed. Then, the machine started making a low humming sound.

Surprised, Danny looked at it. Lights started glowing in it.

It was... Working?

Why? Why _now_? Why not earlier?

A monotone voice came from the machine.

"Start up complete. Greetings. I am Hope."


End file.
